


John

by undergroundnetworking



Category: Sherlock (TV), johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:32:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7198028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undergroundnetworking/pseuds/undergroundnetworking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a shitty little fanfiction that I wrote for a writing challenge with the theme 'holding hands'. Thank you for reading my loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	John

John.  
Sherlock awoke to stiff sheets and a cold room in the peak of winter; mind swirling within a tidal pool with shards of ice threatening to inflict pain into any unwanted thoughts. John.  
Sherlock lay straight, eyes open, in his body's small pool of warmth radiating just a few millimetres into the white sheets. He focused on the minor discomfort in the middle of his spine from pressing awkwardly into the mattress. It was easier to focus on cataloguing and deleting; a ritual of organisation and five minutes of distraction from the outside. Sherlock opened his eyes and breathed deeply, stomach churning, as his mind attempted to collapse deeper under the duvet.  
Love. Not entirely irrational, no. Helpful in preservation of the species and lowering emotional strife. It increased the imagination but that didn't make it any the less painful and foreign and petrifying. Becoming too hard to get rid of. The thought of John infiltrated Sherlock's mind at every unguarded opportunity. He groaned at his rising heart rate and began to catalogue the emotion. To love a man who can't love you back, surely there was a poem or something equally as pointless and completely unhelpful to sum up the feeling clearly enough. Agony. 

"Sherlock,"  
John said leaving Sherlock unaware of, and reasonably panicked knowing that he had been standing at the door during Sherlock's small morning wave of anxiety and thought arrangement.  
"Can I come in?"  
Sherlock sat up, hair ridiculously disheveled and white t-shirt hanging ghostly from his shoulders. He raised one eyebrow just slightly enough to be noticed. which John took at an invitation to walk in and place himself in front of Sherlock on the mattress. John. 

Sherlock's mind flooded with whatever this meeting could be about. What have I done?  
Panic. Pain. Hard to deduce on John's face but evidently of a personal nature which caused Sherlock's heart rate to rise just slightly more uncomfortably. 141 BPM. 

"Sherlock...", John began before looking down and breathing in a little to deeply for this to be one of their 'casual chats'.  
"Believe it or not, I'm smarter than you think."  
Sherlock, closed his eyes quickly, fooling no one. His agitation rose just enough to make John's worry slightly more noticeable in the tone of his voice.  
"Sherlock... We're different."  
Panic  
"And... I'm not entirely sure if you'd like what's inside of me; but I know that I care for every piece of you and every chemical that fires within your head and I know how you feel..."  
John closes his eyes and puts his hands in his lap in front of him as Sherlock stares on visibly breathing a little heavier.  
"I know how pointless you think this is, but it hurts you... And it hurts me and believe it or not love isn't completely explainable and logical and to be completely honest if you'd just like to see what happens and feel this I'd be more than willing to comply."  
Sherlock stared at the sleeve of Johns shirt. This can't happen.  
"John. Please. I'm sorry. Yes."  
Sherlock looked to the sheets,  
"I know how you feel but I can't do this. I can't feel what you want me to. This is all too big and overwhelming and I'm trying so desperately to push this away. This burns me and it will hurt you. I'm not average if you haven't noticed. I wish I could so this John. But I have no precedent I don't know how to go about this and it would hurt us less if we didn't. Please John."

John looked to Sherlock's hair shrouding his down turned face and noticed Sherlock's slight shaking.  
"Sherlock I promise you I don't care how you are or I wouldn't care this much for you already. I promise you that you can do this. It'll hurt you less to try. I'll only do this if you want but please Sherlock, you need to stop denying yourself this. My mind is an ocean when I'm with you and I can't possibly imagine what you're feeling. If you want to try this Sherlock it's okay. Please. You don't need precedent. You don't need to do anything. Just let us fall. I just want to touch you...I want our minds together and I want our lives together but I only want that if you want the same and we can just...try."

Sherlock looked up through the bleak, harsh air and looked to John's eyes, hair, shirt, lips, arms, legs, noticing and cataloging every detail of information with the lack of usual personal restraint.  
Sherlock brought his hand forward and pushed his cold fingers into John's. Warmth and fear and pain and love and emotion flooded his body like ink splashing through his brain to the back of his eyes.  
John.


End file.
